


Why My Pretend Romance Is Better Than Yours

by Ryu_No_Joou



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adult Language, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, An AU of an AU, Eventual Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_No_Joou/pseuds/Ryu_No_Joou
Summary: Vorstag needs a replacement boyfriend for his sister's wedding. Lydia's friend Sirius just might fit the bill.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random idea floating in my head, we'll see if I can finish it!
> 
> Takes place in New York, but I know nothing about it so it might be inaccurate in places. I'm doing my best to figure it out!
> 
> Chac the Bosmer belongs to [Nudebeme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme) .

“Lydia, I am completely and truly fucked.”

Making a sympathetic noise, Lydia placed two cups of tea on the coffee table, sinking onto the couch beside her friend. Vorstag was the very picture of misery, his suit jacket unbuttoned and hanging messily, his tie loosened and creased. His shoulder-length brown hair hid his face from view, but she could tell he was close to tears. He slumped over, face in his hands. 

“It’s not that bad,” Lydia said soothingly, patting his back. “Why don’t you just tell your family the truth? That Hongar was a brute and an asshole and you couldn’t take it anymore?”

Vorstag looked up, panicked. “I can’t! Lydia, I can’t tell them…” His face was red with embarrassment and shame as the last five years of his life flashed through his mind. The beatings, the humiliation… “I can’t tell them what he did to me,” he choked out. Lydia regretted her words, hugging Vorstag as he got himself under control. Her mind worked furiously. 

His sister’s wedding fast approaching, Vorstag had been encouraged by his family to bring the “wonderful man” he’d told them so much about, but whom they’d never met. The truth of the matter was that Hongar was not as wonderful as Vorstag pretended he was. Hongar was controlling, manipulative, abusive. He had put Vorstag in the hospital three times, belittled him constantly, and derided him as “lazy” despite Vorstag’s working three jobs to put himself through law school. Two months ago, Vorstag had had enough, and finally summoned the courage to leave. It had been more like fleeing, as Lydia and Vorstag loaded their cars with his belongings and moved everything to a new apartment several blocks away, all while Hongar was down in Philadelphia for a meeting of his motorcycle club. The last they had heard, Hongar was in jail for selling stolen auto parts, which was a big relief to Vorstag. But now he faced the possibility of showing up to the wedding without the wonderful man he had told his family about.

By the time she had calmed Vorstag down and gotten him to drink his tea, a plan had begun forming in Lydia's mind. It was ridiculous, but might spare Vorstag some embarrassment, and buy him some time.

“Take a fake boyfriend,” she said. 

He blinked at her. “Lydia…”

“No, I’m serious. Pick up a cute guy, hire an escort, take him to the wedding and tell everyone he’s the boyfriend.”

“I can’t afford an escort. I’m still paying off loans. And who’s going to fall for a scheme like that?”

“Right… do you have any guy friends who would….”

Vorstag shook his head viciously. “Hongar made sure I didn’t have any friends, besides you.”

Lydia picked at a spot on her jeans, thinking hard. Silence reigned as her cat Balgruuf jumped up on Vorstag’s lap, demanding pets. She watched Vorstag fuss over the yellow cat, her mind wandering…

“I’ve got it.” She sat up so suddenly both Vorstag and Balgruuf stared at her in surprise. “I’ve got a friend who might be up for it. He’s single, and would do it just for a laugh. You’ll like him,” she insisted, seeing Vorstag’s skeptical expression. “Come on, let me at least call him.”

“Oh my God.” Vorstag scratched Balgruuf’s ears, sighing. “What’s he like?”

“He’s perfect. He’s got a good sense of humor and is a really nice guy. Give it a chance!”

“I can’t believe you’re talking me into this,” Vorstag groaned, but he was warming to the idea. His family knew nothing about Hongar except how “kind and loving” he was, so maybe this could work….

Grinning, Lydia grabbed her phone.

—

At the moment, the friend in question, Sirius, was sprawled out on the couch. Twin streams of sweet-smelling smoke seeped lazily from his nostrils as he passed the joint over to his best friend, Chac. They were both pleasantly buzzed, lounging around Chac’s apartment and listening to one of his African music CDs as they smoked. It had been a long week, and they needed to unwind.

The noise of the African drums was interrupted by Metallica’s “Master of Puppets”. Sirius reached for his phone, smiling dreamily when he saw Lydia’s picture on the caller ID. He waved for Chac to turn down the music. “Heyy, girl. What’s up?”

On the other end, Lydia did a fist pump. She could tell by the slow, syrupy tone and the thickening of his accent that Sirius was getting high, and would go along with almost anything. “Not much. But I have a little favor you could do for me.” Vorstag, despite his misgivings, leaned in to listen to the conversation. The slow drawl, tinged with a Brit’s accent, made him unusually warm.

“Anything for you,” Sirius drawled, taking the joint as Chac handed it back and taking a deep drag. “What is it?”

“I have a friend,” Lydia said eagerly, “who just broke up with his boyfriend. But he needs a date to his sister’s wedding because his family thinks they’re still together. I was wondering if you’d... y’know, pretend to be his boyfriend for a little while.”

Sirius giggled. “Is he cute?”

Vorstag blushed. “Very cute,” Lydia said happily. “I think he’s just your type.”

“Mmm, name the place then.” Sirius felt like he was in a pleasant dream, floating on a cloud and talking about lonesome, sexy men who needed dates. 

Lydia looked over at Vorstag, who looked panicked. “My place. Next Friday, at four. Can you make it?”

Dreamily, Sirius considered this. “Yeah. See you then.”

“Thanks,” Lydia breathed, relieved. “I owe you one.”

“Nah. Just happy to help. Ta.” Sirius hung up. Chac was watching him eagerly. 

“What was that?”

“Oh… got a gig to pretend to be a fake boyfriend for one of Lydia’s friends.”

Chac burst out laughing, holding the joint away from his dreadlocks as he bent over in mirth. “Oh man. Seriously? Guy or girl?”

“Guy. It should be fun. I got nothing to lose anyway. Guess he and his boyfriend split but he’s expected to show up at his sister’s wedding with a date.”

“Worst case you get a free dinner out of it,” Chac chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. “Shit man, this is going to be great.”

—

By the following Friday, Vorstag was a wreck inside. Outwardly, he appeared as calm and unruffled as always, a skill he had learned well during his relationship with Hongar. When his last class ended at three he practically sprinted out the door, running home to shower and change before heading to Lydia’s. She met him at the door, giving a nod of approval to his button-down shirt and jeans. 

“You look good. Come on in, I’ll make tea.”

“Is he really going to come?” Vorstag asked nervously, sinking into a chair. Balgruuf jumped into his lap, purring loudly.

“Sure, he’ll be here. He’s really good at keeping appointments,” Lydia said reassuringly, but wondering internally. Now that the day was here, she was desperately hoping Sirius hadn’t been too high to remember what he had agreed to. She poured the tea, a calming chamomile and lavender blend to help soothe their nerves. She glanced at the clock, biting her lip. 

—

Sirius trudged up 51st Street, passing by familiar landmarks as he approached Lydia’s building. He buzzed and was let in, taking the stairs instead of the elevator to get rid of some of his nervous energy. He had almost forgotten about the whole thing, until Chac had texted him in the morning - _“Have fun with your pretend boyfriend!”_. Now he was vaguely uneasy about the whole plan, but owed it to Lydia to at least show up. He knocked, wishing he had taken the time for a cigarette before coming inside.

The door opened, Lydia smiling up at him - a bit nervously, Sirius noticed. “Hey!” She stood up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and ushered him in. “Sirius, this is Vorstag. Vorstag, Sirius.”

They stared at each other. Sirius blinked. He had been expecting some skinny hipster, but instead…. Vorstag was almost as tall as him, with shoulder-length brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was well-built, with broad shoulders, dressed in jeans and a blue button-down that hugged his body and showed a good figure. His full lips looked made for deep kisses, and not-so-idly Sirius had to wonder what he looked like naked.

Vorstag was likewise in awe. Sirius was tall, thin, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His long hair reached halfway down his back, and was the deepest, glossiest black Vorstag had ever seen. He had piercing grey eyes that made Vorstag feel as if he was being X-rayed, his ears were pierced three times each, and he sported a soul patch. Tearing his eyes away from Sirius’ face so as not to be rude, Vorstag saw his arms were covered in tattoos. As they shook hands, he couldn’t help but gape at them.

“That’s incredible,” he blurted, indicating Sirius’ right arm, which appeared to be tattooed with a dragon. Sirius grinned, rolling up his sleeve to display the whole tattoo, his pride and joy. The dragon was done Asian-style, its fierce snarling face starting on Sirius’ shoulder and its body winding around his entire arm, the tip of its tail on the back of his hand. The colors were so vibrant and the art so detailed that the dragon almost appeared alive on Sirius’ skin, seeming to writhe every time he moved. 

“Thanks. My uncle did that for me, ah, a year ago.” Sirius liked when his tats were admired, and it didn’t hurt that it was a cute, muscular brunette doing the admiring. 

“Sirius is a tattoo artist,” Lydia piped up. There had been electricity between the two men when they saw each other, she knew it. The plan was certain to go off perfectly. 

“Apprentice tattoo artist,” Sirius amended, as they sat down. He accepted a cup of tea. “It’s my uncle’s shop, but he wants me to take it over someday. What do you do, Vorstag?”

“Ah, well…” Vorstag blushed and hated himself for it. “I’m waiting tables at Fornzo’s and El Pizzeria, and I work at the bookstore down on East 5th…”

“He’s putting himself through law school,” Lydia said smugly, not letting her friend downplay his talents. Sirius smiled.

“Really? Working three jobs too? Man, you must be bloody knackered. That’s a lot of hours.”

“Well, it’s worth it,” Vorstag responded, feeling his cheeks burning, “I’ve wanted to be a lawyer since I was a kid. Prosecution.”

“Oof, someday you’ll be trying me for possession or something,” Sirius snickered. “So what’s this plan of yours, Lydia?”

She laid it out for them. “It’s just what I said on the phone. Vorstag’s sister is getting married in a month. There’s going to be parties and get togethers and the family expects Vorstag to bring his boyfriend, who he’s been talking about for years but they’ve never met. Guy was an asshole,” she said, ignoring Vorstag’s red face, “and they split up. Besides, he wasn't anyone you’d bring around your family anyway. So you step in, pretend to be the boyfriend, act lovey-dovey with Vorstag until after the wedding, then you go your separate ways and Vorstag tells his family you guys have broken up. Then he’s free, you’re free, and his mom doesn’t have to know about the fuckstick he used to be with.”

Sirius lounged in the chair, considering it. “I gotta warn you, I don’t always watch my mouth,” he said sheepishly, looking at Vorstag, who was blushing so cutely Sirius had a sudden urge to kiss his pink cheeks. “I smoke and I’m not just talking fags, but I’ve been cutting back. And uh, if your mum or anyone has a thing about tattoos I guess I could wear long sleeves or something…” He glanced at his right hand, the dragon’s tail just above the goddess Azura’s name etched into his knuckles. “And a glove…”

Vorstag’s throat was so tight he had to gulp a few times before answering. “N-no, it’s okay,” he said. “if you um, want to do it, I don’t… I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” he managed. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting - a perpetual frat-boy, maybe - and seeing this ebony-haired god had thrown him off. Where did Lydia find her friends? 

“If it’ll help you out,” Sirius said awkwardly. Likewise, he hadn’t been expecting such a handsome man, eerily similar-looking to the porn stars and nude models he jerked off to. His last boyfriend, Eric, had the body but was nowhere near as attractive as Vorstag was. It was slightly unnerving, but hearing the contempt in Lydia’s voice for the ex (the “fuckstick”) had made him want to help. There was a certain sadness in Vorstag’s eyes, too. Something inside Sirius wanted to cure it. 

“Thanks.” Vorstag replied just as awkwardly. “I gotta go to work, but uh… should we meet up sometime and I can, uh, tell you more?”

“You should really get to know each other better,” Lydia added slyly. She watched as the men exchanged numbers, satisfied. If this all went well, maybe Vorstag - and Sirius too - would get the real boyfriend each of them deserved.


	2. Chapter 2

A week passed before Vorstag and Sirius could meet again. On Saturday they had plans to get together at a Starbucks halfway between their apartments. Vorstag sat at a table near the window, stirring his latte nervously while staring out at the street. He hated the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t a big deal, just a charade to keep his family from finding out about the worst man in the world, so why was he so worried?

He realized he had been shredding a napkin unknowingly and forced himself to stop, sweeping the pieces into his hand and getting up to throw them away. As he returned to his table, the door opened and Sirius entered, tucking a pair of aviator shades into his shirt collar. Vorstag sat down abruptly as his knees gave way, and he scolded himself. Sure, Sirius was attractive and heads turned to watch his long legs as he crossed the store, but there was no reason to feel overly warm and slightly turned on…

Likewise, Sirius was a bit nervous, but hid it behind cool indifference as he slid into the chair across from Vorstag’s, noticing a few girls who had been glancing at the young lawyer from afar. He _was_ cute, in a rugged, muscular way. And those sad eyes… 'Stop,' he ordered himself. 'The guy needs a favor.' “Hey.”

“Hi.” Vorstag fiddled with the straw in his drink. “Good to, uh, see you again.” He forced himself to stop admiring Sirius’ looks and decided to treat this like he would arguing a case. Picturing himself behind the podium from his high school debate team calmed him down, viewing Sirius as just another debater. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

“No problem.” Sirius lounged in his chair, watching the brunette closely. Vorstag seemed less shy than before, as he drew an iPad from his leather bag and put it between them. He brought up a photo gallery, Sirius leaning over to see the pictures. First was an older blonde woman in a flowered dress, holding a pot of geraniums. 

“My mom. You can call her Gwen or Mrs. Braun, doesn’t matter.” Sirius filed away the name as Vorstag swiped to a picture of a very attractive brunette woman, laughing into the camera and holding a melting ice cream. “My sister, Versaag. She’s four years younger than me.” Another swipe brought up a bearded man in a greasy t-shirt standing next to a Camaro - a ’68 or ’69 - with a proud grin, his arm around Versaag. “And this is her fiancee, Cerdic.”

“Nice car,” Sirius mused, gazing at the Camaro. 

“He loves that thing,” Vorstag said fondly. “Almost as much as he loves my sister. He takes it around to classic car shows. If you get talking to him about it, you’d better be prepared for every detail of the restoration.”

“Restored it himself?”

“Yes. It took him a year and a half, but it was really worth it. Even Hon- uh, my ex liked it.”

Sirius glanced up, but Vorstag didn’t quite meet his eyes when mentioning the ex. “I’ve got a ’69 Dodge Charger,” he said, watching Vorstag closely. “My uncle gave it to me. Piece of shit at first, you know? But I’ve been working on it more since I, uh, got out of the hospital. I found a place in Jersey that sells original Charger parts. I want to get it back to like-new condition.”

A brief vision of Sirius shirtless, bending over a car’s engine, made Vorstag shiver. “Were you sick?”

A pained expression crossed the other man’s face and Vorstag regretted asking. He opened his mouth to tell Sirius to forget it, but Sirius spoke first. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.” He fiddled with the paper from Vorstag’s straw, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. “I uh… had a problem with cocaine. This was two years ago. I fucked myself up bad and ended up in a coma. Woke up and my best friend was sitting there crying, and he doesn’t cry easy. Decided then I had to quit.” He glanced up, expecting disgust in Vorstag’s eyes, but Vorstag looked sympathetic. 

Knowing full well how your life could spiral out of control before you realized it, Vorstag couldn’t judge. “Hey, as long as you’re staying clean and making an effort,” he said sincerely. “I can imagine it’s really tough to quit something cold turkey like that.” 

“Yeah, well…” Now it was Sirius who was embarrassed, a slight blush tinging his high cheekbones. “So, uh, tell me more about yourself.”

Vorstag shrugged. “There’s not much to tell, I guess,” he said. “My dad died when I was 10, Mom pulled through and raised me and Versaag the best she could, and I’m in law school. Uh, and I told everyone my boyfriend was great but in reality, he’s pond scum.”

Sirius laughed, shaking his head. “A fine choice of words,” he teased. “I could say the same about some of my exes, too.”

That was doubtful, but Vorstag ignored it. “And you?”

“Parents were shit, I have a brother a year younger than me who’s a twat, I dropped out of college and worked in a record store until my uncle asked me to work in his tattoo parlor. I drink, I smoke, and I work on my car. That’s about it, too.”

“Do you like working as a tattoo artist?”

“I love it. I’ve always wanted to be in tattooing.” Sirius’ eyes lit up and Vorstag smiled at his enthusiasm. “I was majoring in art in college but I hated the place. All I wanted to do was draw and party.” He laughed, a sound to make anyone’s knees weak. “I used to draw temporary tats on anyone who asked, for beer money. You get assholes in there sometimes, but really, it’s the perfect job. I know people bash family businesses but my uncle’s pretty famous in tattooing circles and he runs a good shop, plus my cousin does the piercing and customer service.” He pulled out his phone, swiping until he found what he wanted, and pushed it across the table. Vorstag picked it up and stared. Sirius was standing on a beach (shirtless! - and were those more tattoos creeping out of the waistband of his shorts?), his arm around the shoulders of a stunning woman in a black bikini. She looked just like him, and was covered in tattoos as well. Her left arm was half-colored.

“Is this one not finished?” Vorstag asked, and Sirius zoomed in on the picture so Vorstag could see it better.

“Not in this pic, but it’s done now. Her name’s Andromeda, she wanted a tat of her namesake. You know, the lady who was going to get eaten by the sea serpent?” Sirius swiped furiously, ending on a picture of his cousin’s sleeve in all its glory. Vorstag gaped. The details were amazing, the colors astounding. The mythical Andromeda was clearly straining against her chains, gazing up in fear at the sea serpent that twined around the rock on which she stood, its gaping mouth inches from her head.

“That’s amazing! You did this yourself?” Vorstag was stunned. “If I ever get a tattoo, I’m going to let you do it!”

Sirius blinked, suddenly imagining Vorstag under his hands…. “Uh, thanks.”

Vorstag looked up from the picture, their eyes meeting. For a minute neither spoke, just looking into each other’s eyes. Then Sirius shook himself, swallowing hard. “Tell me about law school, though. That must be interesting.”

Vorstag blushed and sipped his latte. “Well, if by ‘interesting’ you mean ‘soul-crushing’, then yes. I’m in my last year before interning with a real law firm, and it’s really tough. I understand it, but the studying and the work is overwhelming sometimes. But it’s worth it.” His brown eyes sparkled. “I’ve wanted to be a lawyer for so long. I just… it sounds stupid, but my mom watches a lot of cop shows and I used to watch them with her. The cops were brave and good at catching the criminals, but the lawyers… I admired the lawyers even more. They worked hard to keep guilty people off the streets, but fought equally hard to protect innocent ones. I just kind of knew I wanted to do that. I was on my high school’s debate team all four years, and it helped me a lot in learning how to make convincing, cohesive arguments.”

He obviously had a lot of passion for his choice in career. It made Sirius smile, because he could see a parallel between their lives in this way.

“So, uh, the wedding’s in three weeks,” Vorstag said, remembering the whole point of the meeting. He was beginning to feel like he could just sit and talk to Sirius in this Starbucks for eternity, but there were things that needed to be discussed, and a glance at the clock told him he only had a half-hour until he had to be at the pizzeria for his shift. “Mom’s going to have a dinner next Sunday. It’ll be small, just immediate family. I can pick you up, we should be there by six so should I get you around… five-thirty?”

“Sure,” Sirius agreed, likewise slightly disappointed to end the exchange of information. He grabbed a napkin and scribbled down his address. “How should I dress?”

Hongar had been a slob, but Vorstag didn’t want to tell Sirius not to show up in a gravy-stained tank top. “Casual-dressy. It’s not a big deal.” He glanced at the clock again, sighing. He slipped his iPad back into his bag. “Sorry, I’ve got to go to work. If you need to know anything else just text me, okay?”

“Sure. See you then.” Sirius watched Vorstag leave, then rose from his seat and crossed to the counter and bought a black coffee. Returning to the empty table, he sipped it and stared unseeingly out the window, replaying Vorstag’s slightly accented voice in his mind. He had noticed the awkwardness when Vorstag talked about his ex, and wondered exactly how bad the breakup had been. Lydia had, of course, called the ex a “fuckstick”, but it seemed like there was something more to it. 

His phone beeped. He drew it out to see a text from Chac. _**How’s the fake boyfriend?**_

 _He just left,_ Sirius typed. _Seems like a nice guy. Has a decent family. I got invited to dinner next weekend._

_**Time to sharpen your acting skills.**_


	3. Chapter 3

The following week seemed longer than usual, but at the same time not long enough. Vorstag was immersed in his studies, spending every waking moment not spent working buried in his notes, studying hard for finals. His sleep was interrupted by nightmares of Hongar busting into the house, and of his mother finding out what her son had been going through. He started looking a little thin and peaky from the lack of sleep, and was looking forward to the school break. But sometimes, as he grabbed a quick bite to eat or took a fast shower, he thought of Sirius. Once or twice he even dreamed of him, reaching out in his sleep to touch a man who wasn’t there.

Sirius was equally busy, spending most of his hours at the tattoo parlor, hunched over a client or the art program on his 27-inch iMac, working on designs. But like Vorstag, sometimes he thought anxiously of Sunday, hoping he could pull off his role of boyfriend without a hitch. He had nagged Lydia into letting him see Vorstag’s Facebook, but there was little there. It surprised him, since his own was full of photos and posts, but Vorstag had barely posted anything, except a few pictures of his family. There was a charming picture of him on his graduation from high school, smiling shyly into the camera and dressed in a blue robe. Sirius had also sneakily emailed himself one of Vorstag’s photos, and he was guilty of looking at it more than he probably should.

Andromeda caught him at it one afternoon on break, snatching his phone to scrutinize the photo. “Hey, he’s _cute_!” she said, glancing at Sirius. “Who is he?”

“Uh -“ Sirius grabbed for the phone, but she danced out of his reach. 

“A new boyfriend?”

“Well, uh, kind of. No, not really.”

Andromeda chuckled. “It’s about time you settle down. Treat him better than the last one, okay?”

Sirius flushed. His last boyfriend, Farkas, had been muscular, sexy, sweet, great for cuddling and amazing in bed, but mentally he had been… Well, to put it nicely, Sirius had often been irritated at Farkas’ inability to have deep conversations. He had ended the relationship after nine months, stupidly choosing to do it in public, where everyone got a good view of Farkas sobbing his heart out. Eventually they had stayed friends, but Andromeda had been exasperated with Sirius for the way he’d handled it.

“He’s not anything,” Sirius insisted, taking his phone back and shoving it in his pocket.

“Then why were you staring at his picture?” Andromeda teased, noticing the pink flush rising in his cheeks. 

“He’s Lydia’s friend,” he scowled. “I’m just doing him a favor.” He stormed out of the break room, leaving his cousin to grin behind her hand.

—

Vorstag was just as guilty. He had badgered Lydia until she let him use her phone to look at Sirius’ Facebook, not seeing her gleeful expression. Sirius seemed to be fond of taking pictures, as his page was packed with them. He had an Instagram as well, which Vorstag visited on his own phone. As casual and cool as Sirius appeared in person, there was an adorable side to him, Vorstag discovered with delight as he found pictures of dogs captioned with hearts, and an entire slew of pictures dedicated to “Booger”, a grey-and white bulldog that seemed to belong to a friend. But there were plenty of pictures of Sirius himself, including two or three selfies taken with red eyes and a joint in his hand or between his lips. But the one that enchanted Vorstag the most was his profile picture, seemingly taken by someone else. Sirius was sitting on a fire escape, one booted foot propped up on the rail, the cigarette between his fingers ignored as he looked out over the city. 

They had started texting, hesitantly at first, but quickly fell into a routine of chatting at night. Vorstag talked about his coming exams, his nervousness about them draining away as he typed. Sirius told him about the tattoo parlor, regaling him with stories of funny or horrible customers. They had discussed the upcoming dinner, and Vorstag had told Sirius more about his family, their hobbies and likes. It was actually very soothing, like dating without the pressure of dating.

Thursday and Friday he sat several finals, breathing a sigh of relief when the last one was over. He felt pretty confident about them, but was glad to escape school for awhile, even if it just meant longer hours at work. He had some time before his shift at El Fornzo’s, and so he stopped in to some of the shops along the way. He picked up a gorgeous, deep red sweater to wear on Sunday. As he paid, it suddenly occurred to him that he was lucky. It was the first time in a very long time he’d thought that, he realized. He was lucky to be alive, in the first place, and lucky to be free of Hongar. Not everyone involved in an abusive relationship was able to get away. And not everyone had a date with an attractive man willing to pretend to be their boyfriend, either. Vorstag smiled to himself, shaking his head. How he had let himself be talked into this, he didn’t know, but at least he had the opportunity to make a friend.

—

Sunday was a bright, sunny day with a nip in the air. Vorstag dressed carefully in the red sweater and a nice pair of slacks. He drove over to Sirius’ apartment in his ratty old Hyundai, remembering the conversation he’d had with his mother the night before. She had been thrilled that he was finally bringing his boyfriend over. 

“Oh, it’s about time! You know you never even told me his name? I can’t wait to see him, you should be ashamed of keeping him a secret from me.”

Well, there were lots of reasons why Vorstag had kept his relationship with Hongar a secret from his family. He pulled up to Sirius’ building, and after a minute or two Sirius emerged. Vorstag was impressed. Sirius was wearing black trousers and a charcoal button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and he looked even better in person than in the picture which Vorstag had fallen into the habit of gazing at before bed. He slid into the car, smiling. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Vorstag said, smiling back a bit nervously. “Thanks for coming.”

“Eh, no problem. I’m actually looking forward to meeting your family.” Sirius liked the way the burgundy sweater hugged Vorstag’s body, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He had been a bit nervous about this “date” all week, bearing Andromeda’s teasing poorly. Chac had likewise teased him, but came over to help him pick out an outfit, and tried his best to reassure Sirius. They had smoked a bit, which had eased Sirius’ nerves for awhile, but he had woken up this morning with a queasy stomach. Seeing Vorstag, though, he felt better. It was going to be fine. He might not know the details of Vorstag’s past relationship, but he was doing a favor for a nice guy.

“How’d your tests go?” he asked abruptly, remembering Vorstag’s texts. 

“Actually, pretty well,” Vorstag admitted, pulling out of the traffic to turn down a quieter street. “After work I passed out at home. I haven’t slept that well in a long time.” 

Sirius had a brief flicker of Vorstag sprawled out on a bed, hair spread on the pillows, maybe snoring. It was a cute picture, and a part of him wouldn’t mind laying beside him. But he put the thought out of his head as they pulled up to a neat white house with a Volvo in the driveway, Vorstag’s brother-in-law’s Camaro behind it. The yard was small but neat, and Sirius saw the fond look in Vorstag’s eyes as he looked up at the house. “How long has your family lived here?”

“Oh, since my parents got engaged. They moved in here a year before the wedding. 1975, I think?” Vorstag pointed up at the left upstairs window. “That was my room. Mom’s turned it into a guest room. Both of our rooms, actually, in case Versaag or I need a place to stay. I probably would have come back here if not… y’know. She’d want to know why.” He sighed, but smiled at Sirius. “Are you ready?”

“If you are,” Sirius agreed, and they started up the walk. Vorstag knocked and then opened the unlocked door, calling.

“Mom?”

“Vorstag!” Mrs. Braun, in a green dress covered by an apron printed with cats, came into the foyer. Behind her was Vorstag’s sister and her fiancee. Sirius stood by awkwardly as Vorstag was pulled into his mother’s embrace, laughing as she squeezed him. His sister hugged him next, then Cerdic. They seemed like a very close family. For a split second Sirius felt sad, wishing he’d had a mother like this cheerful, laughing woman, and a sibling whom he got along with. Mrs. Braun turned to him. “Is this the boyfriend we’ve heard so much about?”

Vorstag smiled, turning to Sirius, quickly glancing into his eyes. He reached out and took Sirius’ hand, running his thumb lovingly over Sirius’ knuckles. “Yes, Mom,” he said, gently pulling Sirius forward. “This is Sirius.”

“Hi-“ Sirius was cut off as he was seized and hugged. Both Vorstag’s mother and sister only came up to his chest, but they embraced him fiercely. He was thumped on the back by Cerdic. A fat grey cat wound around his ankles, purring. And he could still feel Vorstag’s hand gripping his. For a minute, it was as if he really was part of the family.

"It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Mrs. Braun said.

“Yeah,” Versaag laughed. “Vorstag wouldn’t tell us anything. We were starting to think he was dating some monster and was ashamed to bring him home.”

Sirius and Vorstag both winced, but it went unnoticed as Mrs. Braun urged them to get comfortable. “Dinner’s almost ready, come sit down.”

The family moved into the dining room, Vorstag leading Sirius by the hand. Sirius’ jaw dropped at the sight of the table, laden with dishes as if it were Thanksgiving. Mrs. Braun disappeared into the kitchen and came out bearing a heaping platter of steaming sliced chicken. Versaag was laughing.

“Mom, you didn’t have to do all this,” she insisted, as they took their seats. “It’s only family dinner.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Braun said, hanging up her apron. “It’s not every day your daughter gets married and your son brings his boyfriend home. It’s a celebration. Besides, you’re all too thin.”

Vorstag hugged her. “It’s great, Mom. I haven’t had a big dinner like this in a long time.”

“Me neither,” Sirius agreed, as he was passed a plate piled high with chicken, potato salad, carrots, beans, and two biscuits. “I wish my mom had cooked like this.”

Mrs. Braun looked concerned. “Has she…?”

“What? Oh, no, she’s still alive,” Sirius said, blushing. “We uh, just don’t talk.” He plowed on, hoping to distract everyone. “She isn’t much on cooking. But this is delicious, really, thanks for inviting me.” He felt stupider with every word, stuffing chicken in his mouth to keep from rambling. Vorstag quickly cut in. 

“It really is, Mom. I’ve been meaning to make your potato salad at home but I just haven’t had the time. I’ve missed it.”

“Oh dear, you work too hard,” his mother said. “Can’t you quit at least one of your jobs?”

Vorstag shook his head. “Not if I want to make it through school. I need all the money I can get.” But he was noticing, he thought, that lately there had been a little extra left over at the end of each month. Maybe it was because he wasn’t being forced to fork over money for Hongar’s beer and cigarettes? “It won’t be for long. When I start interning for Jones and Clark, I’ll be able to drop the part-time work.”

Versaag smiled at him. “My brother the lawyer. I can’t believe you’re finally going to be working in a courtroom.”

The family fell to discussing wedding plans as they ate. Sirius mostly just listened, nodding in the right places and making sure to be sufficiently “lovey-dovey” (as Lydia would say) with Vorstag, touching hands during the meal and once or twice even feeding each other. He answered Mrs. Braun’s questions honestly, talking about the tattoo parlor and the restoration of the Dodge, which prompted a very long discussion with Cerdic about classic cars. Mrs. Braun and her children cleared up as the two men talked gearshifts and transmissions and chrome, before Mrs. Braun brought out a large apple pie for dessert. Vorstag poured coffee and they lingered, the fat grey cat jumping up on Sirius to be scratched. At one point Sirius reached out absently and took Vorstag’s hand, gently rubbing his thumb over Vorstag’s knuckles unconsciously as he chatted with Versaag about music. Around ten Vorstag finally stretched and said, “We should get going, Mom. We’ve got to be up early for work.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed the time!” Mrs. Braun insisted on wrapping up leftovers for her children to take home, over their protests. “Remember, the rehearsal dinner is next Wednesday at eight at Sudan’s. I’ve got the hotel reservations all made for the wedding so we don’t have to rush home after the ceremony - no, Vorstag, they’re already paid for - three rooms at the Hilton… no, honey, put your wallet away…” 

Three rooms? Vorstag and Sirius waited until they were in the car to exchange a look. 

“Should I ask her for another one?” Vorstag bit his lip. “Or to switch it to a double?”

“It’s fine,” Sirius said, trying not to imagine sharing a bed with Vorstag. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll sleep on the couch or something, those hotels always have couches in the rooms.” He was blushing and was glad it was dark. “Uh, your family’s really nice.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Vorstag said shyly. “Thanks for tonight. Mom’s really happy.” He didn’t want to admit that he was really happy as well, and he’d be happier if this wasn’t just a charade. He pulled onto the highway, heading back to Brooklyn. 

“What should I wear?” Sirius asked him. “Should we, uh… match or something?”

Vorstag’s ears were on fire. “N-no,” he said. “Cerdic and I are going to be pretty similar since I’m the best man, but you can wear whatever you want.” He paused, then half-whispered. “The color is blue.”

Sirius smiled. “Send me a sample. I have a suit but I’ll get a tie to match yours.”

They pulled up to Sirius’ building. “Sure,” Vorstag managed. The overhead light came on as Sirius opened the door and Vorstag prayed he wasn’t still red. “T-thanks for coming, really. It means a lot that you’d help me out like this.”

“No problem,” Sirius responded. Vorstag’s cheeks were pink, a little smile on his face. He was adorable. Sirius leaned back into the car and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight.” 

Vorstag felt his face heat up and noticed Sirius was blushing as well. Sirius slammed the door and hurried into his building, leaving Vorstag to touch his cheek and wish it had been a longer kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a mistake in a previous chapter, saying Sirius' last boyfriend was Eric - sorry! Farkas was the most recent boyfriend, Eric was before him. Oops.


	4. Chapter 4

Versaag was becoming more and more stressed as the wedding approached. She called Vorstag often, and he was glad to let her talk out her anxieties.

“It’s not like I’m having second thoughts,” she told him one day, as they Skyped while Vorstag was cooking. “But I’m beginning to wish we had just eloped or had a hippie-style wedding in the backyard, or something. There’s just so much going on and it’s overwhelming, you know? Shit.” She was putting together small arrangements of plastic flowers, and her spool of ribbon had rolled away. Retrieving it, she said, “Wait until you and Sirius get married. You’ll see.”

She was under the table and didn’t see Vorstag jump in shock, and by the time she sat up with her ribbon his face was neutral once more. “I don’t think we’ll be getting married.”

“What?’ Versaag looked surprised. “You’ve been together five years! And the way you guys acted at dinner… I was waiting for him to pull out a ring after dessert!”

Her brother blushed, shaking his head quickly. “N-no,” he stammered. Had they overdone it? Or maybe… maybe, was Sirius starting to develop feelings for him? “I don’t think Sirius… uh, we, would get married.”

“Too bad,” Versaag tutted. “You’re so cute together. I figured, if you’d been dating that long…”

Vorstag was saved from answering as his phone rang, and for once he was actually glad to see his manager’s number on the screen. “It’s work, sis, I gotta go.”

“Okay. See you later.” They disconnected, Vorstag breathing a sigh of relief before answering the phone.

—

Later, Vorstag lay in bed, staring up at the pattern the streetlight shining through his blinds made on the ceiling, and thinking about Sirius. The rehearsal dinner on Wednesday night had gone perfectly. They had gone first to the church, where the priest talked to the family about entering, seating, and the ceremony. Versaag had asked her brother to give her away, so they practiced walking down the aisle together, blushing even though it was only their mother, Cerdic, Sirius, and the priest who watched.

“Wait until we have to do it for real,” she had whispered to him. “I’ll be on heels and so nervous you’ll have to carry me down the aisle.”

“I’ll be just as nervous for you,” Vorstag had whispered back. “We’ll just have to carry each other.”

After the church, they had gone to Sudan’s, the restaurant where the reception was taking place. There was little there for Vorstag to be involved in, so he and Sirius had hung back, talking softly. It had only been mundane topics - work, mostly, but Vorstag had felt close to Sirius, and at one point had dared to reach out and take his hand. Sirius had smiled at him, squeezing back gently. 

It wasn’t any good to deny it, Vorstag thought as he rolled onto his side and stared at nothing. He was, against his better judgement, falling in love with Sirius. He was reluctant to admit it to himself, but it was there. Falling in love was dangerous. The last time he had loved a man, he had been abused, cut off from almost everyone, belittled. And surely it was too soon? He had only left Hongar… what, three months ago now? It wasn’t right. He also feared he was imposing his feelings on Sirius, who had also experienced a breakup in the past year. Vorstag berated himself silently. Surely Sirius felt nothing. It was just an act, a favor, and Sirius was superb at his role but couldn’t possibly feel any attraction to Vorstag. It was probably just a crush, Vorstag reminded himself, brought on by being treated so kindly after leaving a horrible man. Once the charade was over he and Sirius would go their separate ways, and Vorstag would no longer have this whirlwind of thoughts in his head.

The desire to be held… to be kissed… it was almost constant when he was around Sirius, and Vorstag sometimes fantasized about sleeping with him. Hongar had been his only sexual partner, and to be honest even someone with no prior experience could figure out that Hongar wasn’t that great in bed. He had derided cuddling and talking as “women shit” and often got up to sleep on the couch after fucking Vorstag, leaving his lover to lay alone in the dark and wonder, in his naivety, what he had done wrong and why their sex life was so disappointing. As the relationship worsened they stopped sleeping together entirely, and Vorstag had been confused, hurt, and scared. Was it too much to ask to have a lover who would soothe his fears, who understood he couldn’t help being anxious sometimes, who would make him feel safe in the dark?

Once or twice, though, half-asleep, Vorstag had allowed himself to drift into fantasy. Sirius nude before him, his grey eyes dark with lust as he went to his knees, making love to Vorstag with his mouth. Or the two of them entwined, exchanging desperate kisses as hands roamed and each sought to claim the other; who topped changed with every daydream but it was just as sweet either way. So close to sleep, Vorstag could pass these fantasies off as real dreams, pushing them away as he stuffed his soiled sheets in the washer. He felt guilty, but the little illusions helped wash away some of his stress.

—

Sirius rested his forehead against the shower tiles, panting softly as he watched his semen being washed down the drain. His long hair stuck to his neck and shoulders as he stood motionless under the warm spray. His eyes closed, water droplets clinging to his long lashes. In his mind his fantasy still lingered, Vorstag in his arms, also catching his breath. Alone, Sirius let his mind follow the course it wanted. Vorstag was smiling up at him, warm and inviting, and Sirius snuggled down into his arms, resting his head on Vorstag’s chest.

“I love you,” he whispered, and though he didn’t realize it his lips formed the words as they ran through his mind. “I love you so much.”

Vorstag’s smile widened and he murmured in Sirius’ ear. “I love you, too.” His big hands ran over Sirius’ back, fingers tracing his spine, his gentle touch soothing Sirius to sleep.

Sirius’ head jerked up and he shook himself. He suddenly hated himself, and washed up quickly. He stepped out into the chill air, drying and dressing quickly. He felt low. Who was he to use Vorstag for his own sex fantasies, even ones with sweet endings? Yet he had been unable to resist, tension growing in him with every word they exchanged, every time he saw Vorstag’s face. 

It was unfair. Sirius had always been forward with his dates, his desire for sex rather than intimacy leading to a line of one-night stands and short relationships that fizzled out as soon as the novelty wore off. Farkas had lasted the longest, and even then it was more about the sex than anything else, since Farkas was never interested in talking about anything more serious than what was on tv that night. He also tended to go straight to sleep after making love, which left Sirius a bit annoyed. But Vorstag… just by looking at him Sirius could tell he was different. More loving, a cuddler, someone Sirius could talk to about anything. It wasn’t fair to use him as a fantasy object. Besides, he was a guy in a tight spot, who needed help, and after all he had just left his ex not that long ago. Probably a relationship was the last thing on his mind at the moment, just wanting to get through the wedding so he could have some peace and quiet.

But still… the desire was there. To have Vorstag underneath him, to explore every inch of his body, to hear the noises he made when he climaxed… it was so tempting. 

Torn, Sirius could only sigh, staring morosely out the window as he smoked a last cigarette before bed. 

—

The next day, Sirius met Chac at his apartment. His friend whistled as he approached, swinging into the Dodge. 

“Man, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. This car looks gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Sirius shifted into gear, pulling out into traffic. “It’s not even close to finished yet, I’ve got a lot more to do. But it’s coming along well. That place in Jersey is a life-saver, believe it or not. What the guy doesn’t sell, he can find. Vorstag’s brother-in-law gave me a few names, too.”

Chac grinned at his friend, pushing back his dreads and snuggling comfortably into the seat. “Seems like a nice guy.”

“They all are,” Sirius said honestly, scanning the traffic. “A nice family.”

His friend studied him closely. Sirius didn’t look any different, but Chac knew his past. His parents had variously ignored or abused him, giving him shit about his sexuality, his choice of career, his clothes, everything. At 19 Sirius hadn’t been able to stand it anymore and left home, searching for a place to live before he started college. He had answered Chac’s ad for a roommate and the pair had hit it off at once, living together for five years. “They seem like they like you, from what you told me.”

Sirius turned slightly pink. “I guess so. I feel bad, though. It’s… not real.”

Chac shrugged. “Have you found out anything about Vorstag’s ex? Has he told you anything?”

“No. I’m not going to pry. It seems like a touchy subject. If he wants to tell me, he will.” Sirius pulled in to the Men’s Wearhouse parking lot, letting the Dodge run for a minute before shutting it off. He liked the deep rumble of its restored engine. “I don’t wanna make him uncomfortable.”

They entered the store, a bit out of place in their jeans and faded t-shirts, and Sirius sensed the salesman’s disapproval as he approached them.

“May I help you?”

“I hope so.” Sirius tried his best to charm the guy. “My… boyfriend’s sister is getting married and I want a tie to match his.” He dug in his wallet, locating the swatch of cloth Vorstag had given him earlier in the week. The salesman studied it critically, sniffed, and led the two men over to the selection of ties. He brought down a few and laid them out for inspection.

“How about this one,” Chac said, pointing at a delicately figured tie. Sirius glanced from tie to swatch, biting his lip. The salesman tried to hide his unhappiness as they two men bent over the selection, their hair dangerously close to the imported silk.

“I don’t like the design,” Sirius said at last. “I just want something simple….”

The salesman brought out a few more ties, Sirius mouthing “too expensive” at Chac behind his back. Chac glanced at the price and winced - $150 _was_ too much for a tie….

Minutes passed as they compared the cloth swatch to every tie the salesman offered. Finally, Sirius pointed.

“That one.” It was the exact shade of pale blue, woven with a striped texture, and the price was much lower than previous ties. The salesman informed him he could combine the tie with a matching pocket square for an additional $30, and at Chac’s urging, Sirius agreed. 

“Might as well impress them,” Chac said, as they left the store. “You’ll look great with matching accessories, very sexy. A man who knows about pocket squares is sexy indeed.”

Sirius had to laugh. “You know me, I don’t pay much attention to what anyone’s wearing unless I want to take it off them.” He was quiet for a minute, then said softly, “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

“What?” Chac held back a huge grin. He had seen this coming a mile away - listening to Sirius talk about Vorstag, describing how he spoke, moved, acted… they’d been texting every night for weeks now, and recently had moved on to hour-long chats before bed. It hadn’t been hard to see that Sirius was falling for Vorstag. Chac may have looked like a burned-out hippie, but he was very astute and could tell this might actually be the relationship Sirius had longed for, someone he connected with and wasn’t just interested in for sex. He lost the battle with himself and started laughing, pounding the Dodge’s dashboard with glee. “Shit, man, anyone can tell you’re head over heels for the guy.”

Sirius was red now. “Fuck.”

“No, it’s cute.” Chac wanted to tease his friend, but held back the urge. He spoke honestly. “I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been looking for a long time….”

“Ah, he probably doesn’t even feel the same,” Sirius muttered, but recently Vorstag’s texts had sometimes ended in a flirty winking emoji blowing a kiss, and once or twice he had stammered as if he had started to say ‘hon’ or ‘sweetheart’ and had tried to cover it. Sirius was just as guilty, slipping up the other night and saying ‘Goodnight, babe,” as he hung up. 

“Sure,” Chac grinned, loving the way Sirius turned redder. “He totally hates you.”

“Shurrup,” Sirius mumbled, unable to stop his face from flushing and hating his disloyal capillaries. He turned into McDonald’s, intending to get a burger to shove in Chac’s mouth so he couldn’t talk anymore, and a milkshake to drown himself in.


	5. Chapter 5

The wedding was less than a week away when Vorstag got the worst news of his life.

His shift at the pizzeria was almost over and he had volunteered to take out the garbage. Happily humming, he tossed the bags into the dumpster and started inside. He moved aside in the hall to allow two grizzled, motorcycling-types pass by him on their way to the men’s room. As they edged past him with nods of thanks, one of the men said to the other, “By the way, did you hear? Hongar’s out of prison.”

Vorstag’s blood turned to ice. The second man pushed the door open. “Oh, really? Last I heard he was supposed to be in there a long time.” 

Quickly Vorstag backed up and entered the bathroom behind the bikers, ducking into a stall as they headed for the urinals. Trembling, he put down the seat cover and sat, listening.

“They let him out. Had to. The Philly cops were working with the ones up here to put him away, but word is some evidence got ‘compromised’. I dunno exactly what that means, but it fucked up the cops’ case. They couldn’t hold him anymore.”

“Goddamn,” the second biker said. “I was hoping he was going away for good. He’s trouble.”

“Yeah,” the first guy replied. “Motherfucker owes me money. I went to pick it up yesterday and he was out of his mind. Guess he came home to find his boyfriend had run out on him. He’s furious.”

“For the boyfriend’s sake, I hope he got far away. Anyway, did you catch the game…” Their voices faded as they left the bathroom. Vorstag suddenly realized he was shaking. His heart thudded in his chest and he lowered his head between his knees, gasping in sudden fright. Eyes squeezed shut, he tried to grasp the situation. He struggled to breathe slowly and deeply in an attempt to ward off the panic attack building inside him, whispering to himself. 

“He can’t know where I live, he doesn’t know where I work,” he murmured over and over. The bathroom door opened and a man crossed the floor, footsteps echoing off the tile. Vorstag suddenly remembered where he was. He jumped to his feet, leaving the stall and going to splash water on his face before stumbling back out into the restaurant. He still couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard. Hongar, free…. Hongar, back in the city….

How he got through his shift in such a blind terror Vorstag never knew. He left the pizzeria in a daze, his heart racing, his mind in a tangle. He tried to look everywhere at once as he made his way down the street, afraid Hongar would appear from out of nowhere. His pace grew faster and faster until he was running. His heart pounded in his chest like a bass drum, tears of fright pricking at the corner of his eyes. He ran unseeingly, his panic overwhelming him, not knowing where he was even going until he was in front of Sirius’ building, frantically pressing the buzzer under his nameplate. There was no answer and Vorstag let out an undignified sob, resting his hot forehead against the cool brick of the building. He fumbled for his phone, managing to hit the speed dial for Sirius’ number. When Sirius’ warm voice met his ear, Vorstag could have cried in relief.

“Vorstag, hi. What’s up?”

Vorstag’s words caught in his throat. He struggled to make a noise, his chest tight with anxiety. “S-Sirius, I.. I need you,” he managed, his voice trembling.

“What? Where are you?” Sirius’ tone was sharp, alert. “Are you okay?”

“I’m in front of your building, please… please come back.” Vorstag’s eyes darted everywhere as he huddled in the building’s doorway, scanning for Hongar. “Please.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes, stay put,” came the response. Vorstag waited, shaking with cold and fear. The night was chilly and his coat was too light. He hugged himself tightly and hunched as far into the shadows as he could, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by. He heard running footsteps after what seemed an eternity but was only five minutes or less, and looked up to see Sirius, in a leather jacket with a long grey scarf wound around his neck. “Are you okay?” he panted.

Sirius’ concern made Vorstag’s heart ache. He shook his head, looking around nervously. “Can we go inside?”

“Yeah, fuck, sorry,” Sirius said, fumbling with his keys. From the lobby they headed up the stairs to the third floor, and Sirius unlocked his apartment and ushered Vorstag inside as he flipped on the lights. “Sorry for the mess. Sit anywhere.”

If he hadn’t been so lost in his own fears and feeling a looming panic attack coming on, Vorstag would have been charmed by the place. Ikea furniture was stacked with CDs, records, tattooing and motorcycle magazines, a few empty beer cans, and various Apple products and their chargers. An overflowing ashtray sat on an end table next to the tv remote. One chair was piled with hoodies and coats. Framed photos of classic cars decorated the walls, and on the sideboard was a photo of Sirius in a suit, standing with his stunning cousin, who was radiant in a white dress and veil. But Vorstag hardly noticed as he collapsed onto the sofa, beginning to wheeze. His chest was growing tighter, his heart beating so strongly he felt as if it was going to leap out of his chest. Sirius noticed the way he was panting for breath, and knew what was happening. He raced into the kitchen and got a glass of water, pressing it into Vorstag’s hands and sitting beside him.

“Drink slow,” he ordered, beginning to gently rub Vorstag’s back. “Just little sips. Breathe.” His hand moved in slow circles on Vorstag’s back, as the other man did as he was told and slowly drank the water. After ten minutes or so Vorstag’s heartbeat slowed to normal and he was breathing easier. He managed a shaky smile.

“Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sirius stopped rubbing but was loathe to take his hand off Vorstag. “I’ve had panic attacks before, I know how you feel. Are you okay?”

“Kind of.” Vorstag drank some more and looked into Sirius’ eyes, noting his concerned expression. “I overheard at work… two guys were talking, I heard them say my ex is back in the city.” He shivered, hugging himself tight. “He was supposed to be in jail!” he blurted out. “The police in Philadelphia caught him red-handed! He was down there selling stolen car parts and they locked him up and that was when I finally left because he couldn’t stop me, but he wasn’t supposed to get out! I thought he’d be in there for years!"

Sirius had been entertaining thoughts for awhile that Vorstag’s ex had been less than savory, and by the way Vorstag was shaking he concluded the relationship had been rocky for a long time. _‘I finally left because he couldn’t stop me’…._ it echoed in his mind. He resumed rubbing Vorstag’s back, sympathetically. “What did he do to you?” he whispered.

Vorstag was quiet for a long time, and Sirius began to think he wouldn’t say anything when he began to murmur.

“What didn’t he do? I was stupid to date him in the first place. He’s twenty years older than me, goddamit. But I was just out of high school and it was my first time at a gay club. He bought me drinks and I let him fuck me. We sort of fell in together after that. I was too naive to see the warning signs. He was sweet to me at first but an asshole to others - especially waitstaff and cashiers. By the time I realized what was going on I was trapped. If I wasn’t at school or work I had to stay in the apartment. He constantly made me give him money for cigarettes and beer, but at the same time kept telling me I had to quit my jobs to stay home and clean. I resisted because, y’know, law school isn’t free. At first it wasn’t too big a deal, but he got more and more insistent. I admit the place was a bit messy, but where was I going to find time to pick up after him?” He stared at the floor, bitterness in his voice. “But I tried anyway. Recycled his damn beer cans and took his crack-stained boxers to the laundromat. I let him get on top of me every night, but that… motherfucker didn’t know the first thing about making love. Fucking pencil stub of a dick, and as soon as he came he’d go off to watch tv or sleep on the couch.” Sirius would have laughed if not for the gravity of the situation.

“He slapped me the first time after we’d been together a year.” Vorstag seemed to shrink into himself, his fingers twisting together. “We went out to eat and Hongar thought I was flirting with the waiter. Got home and he slammed me against the door and slapped me across the face. _‘Don’t you dare let me see you flirting with anyone again’_. I was furious. I hit him back. Screamed at him. He punched me in the stomach so hard I passed out. It was amazing he didn’t rupture anything. And next morning he brings me roses, asking me to forgive him, that he’d had a bad day at work. Bad day! The asshole spent his time tearing stolen cars apart for sellable pieces, when he wasn't bullshitting with the rest of the losers he worked with. I should’ve walked out on him then. But my mom…” Vorstag sighed shakily. “My mom was so happy for me. My teenage years had been rough, coming to terms with being gay, and actually learning to accept myself. I’d been too afraid to date. When I’d told her I met someone, she was overjoyed. Even then I avoided talking about him. It seemed… I dunno. Even before the abuse started I felt like he wasn’t someone I could bring home.” His voice quivered. Sirius hated to see him this way, frightened and angry. Abandoning his common sense, he took Vorstag’s hand in his. Vorstag clutched it needfully, words spilling out of him in a torrent as he fought to explain.

“He had me trapped,” Vorstag continued, in a barely audible voice. “He was my first everything. Boyfriend, lover… we were probably together long enough to be considered common-law married, if New York still had it. I was scared of him but I was scared of the world, too. I’d gone right from Mom’s house to Hongar’s apartment. Someone else provided me with food and shelter. He used to tell me if I left him I’d be homeless in a month. It scared me. So I stayed. I thought he loved me… shithead used to apologize all the time. I believed him, but he never meant it. He broke my ribs once, and had the gall to lie to everyone about it. Showed up at the hospital with a huge bouquet of roses and a teddy bear, fussing over me. The nurses thought we were cute. And God help me, I went along with it.” He was trying to hold back tears, but just couldn’t anymore. He began to cry weakly as he struggled to keep going, clutching Sirius’ hand in both of his.

“I hate him,” he ground out. “But I stayed. I let him do what he wanted to me in bed and I cleaned up and cooked for him and lied about what he did to me. He beat me up if I didn’t want to have sex, and if he couldn’t get it up I’d get hit anyway. When he went down to Philadelphia I told myself it had to happen. I had to go, then, there, before he got back. I only had a few days. I called Lydia. I asked her to help me. She… she’s a good friend. She never asked why, just came right down. I knew someone, the mom of one of my classmates, who had an empty apartment. She gave it to me. I don’t know why. Here I am at the door with Lydia, in my sweatpants, two cars full of shit behind us… but she told me to move right in. Hash out the details later. I was lucky. Incredibly lucky. That’s where I’ve been for three months.” He hiccuped, his voice choked with emotion. “I couldn’t tell Mom. Or Versaag. I broke down and told Lydia, but not… not all of it. Sirius, he…” He looked up, tears rolling down his cheeks. It hurt Sirius to see those terrified eyes. “Sirius, he liked it. All of it. I know he did. He’d be on me…. _raping_ me, and he’d laugh. If I fought back he’d hit harder. But I couldn’t… l-live like that a-anymore!”

He sobbed, burying his face in Sirius’ chest. Sirius put his arms around him, holding him tightly. Anger, loathing, and pity boiled in him, but he didn’t say a word, just let Vorstag cry into his old AC/DC shirt, rubbing his back and rocking with him. It was then he knew he couldn’t let Vorstag go. The stupid charade didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was this fragile man, struggling to put himself together and recover. But now was not the right time for professing love. He just continued to hold Vorstag until his sobs had subsided, then rose, pulling him up. Arm around his shoulders, Sirius led Vorstag into the bedroom and made him lay down, pulling the blankets over him. Vorstag tried to protest, but Sirius hushed him. 

“You need rest. There’s circles under your eyes. Just let me take care of you.” He went to the bathroom for a damp washcloth, placing it over Vorstag’s eyes. “Just rest. Relax.”

Vorstag could have begun crying again at the way Sirius treated him so gently, but he obeyed, letting the damp cloth soothe his hot, itchy eyes. He lay motionless in Sirius’ big bed, listening as footsteps faded away, and water ran in the kitchen. Faint clanging sounded like a kettle was being put on. Vorstag allowed himself to relax, breathing slowly. Sirius’ scent, Old Spice and cigarettes, lingered in his nose. The sheets smelled like him, mixed with a delicate detergent aroma. 

“Here.” Sirius was back, sitting on the edge of the bed. Vorstag sat up and took the offered cup of tea. Sirius gave him a little smile. “It’s the Brit in me. Someone’s upset, make them a cuppa. Must be bred in the genes.”

Vorstag had to smile at that, sipping the tea slowly. Sirius dabbed at his forehead gently with the washcloth, watching him closely. When the tea was gone Vorstag put the cup on the nightstand, and attempted to stand. “I’ll go, I shouldn’t…”

“No.” Sirius gently pushed him back. “Go to sleep. It’s fine.” He pulled the blankets up, and Vorstag felt embarrassed yet grateful. He closed his eyes. To be honest, he didn’t want to go home at the moment, and he was so comfortable….

Sirius watched Vorstag fall asleep, hardly daring to breathe, lest he disturb him. He was seething with anger, and once he was sure Vorstag was asleep he stormed out of the room to have a cigarette. He pushed open the kitchen window and leaned out, lost in his thoughts. To think there was someone out there who would treat Vorstag like that… He snorted in irritation. Getting angry wasn’t going to help anything. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and stared down at the street. The courage it must have taken for Vorstag to spill out his story… Sirius was touched the other man had come to him for comfort, and had been enough at ease with him to share. He couldn’t let down that trust. Snuffing out his fag, he closed the window and went back to his room, gazing fondly at Vorstag. As quietly as possible, he changed into pajama bottoms and one of his oldest, most faded shirts - it might have been Led Zeppelin, or maybe Pantera, he couldn’t remember - before getting into bed. He shut off the light, laying close to Vorstag and falling asleep in minutes.

—

Vorstag woke up, blinking away his dream, his heart thudding. He couldn’t remember the details, just that Hongar had been there. He frowned. This wasn’t his room… and he couldn’t move. He blushed as he remembered he was in Sirius’ bed, and as he realized Sirius was asleep beside him, one arm thrown across his chest. Vorstag’s cheeks burned. He had cried like a baby last night, was still in his work clothes that smelled like pizza, and yet Sirius was curled up beside him as if it were where he belonged. Drowsily, Vorstag considered getting up and going home, but he was just so comfortable, and to be honest he didn’t really want to leave. Sirius’ apartment felt more like home than his own, which was still half-full of boxes from his hurried flight from Hongar. He closed his eyes instead and let himself relax. Sirius snored. It wasn’t a real snore, more like a wheeze and a whistle of his nose, but it was somehow endearing. 

It was too late to turn back, Vorstag decided, as he began to drift off to sleep once more. He was in love, right or wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

Versaag’s wedding day dawned bright and warm. Vorstag stood in his old bedroom, fresh from the shower and staring into the mirror as he dressed. From down the hall came the muted sounds of his mother's and sister’s voices, and even fainter the chatter of the bridesmaids from the kitchen. As he knotted his tie, Vorstag’s mind was a thousand miles away, remembering the other night. He hadn’t run away, but had slept in Sirius’ embrace until nearly ten the next morning. He had expected it to be awkward when they awoke, but when he opened his eyes and saw Sirius gazing at him with sleepy eyes and a little grin, he hadn’t been able to keep from smiling back.

“Feeling better?” Sirius had asked, and Vorstag had admitted he did. In fact, pouring out his story had somehow made him feel cleansed. Being treated with such kindness, without pity or disgust, had been healing. He still was afraid of Hongar, but felt braver now. He had said this to Sirius, who had smiled wider and said something that stuck with Vorstag - “You’re free now. Hold your head up and breathe easy.”

Straightening his vest, Vorstag had to admit to himself that he probably would have offered to have sex with Sirius at that point, if it hadn’t been for his phone alarm informing him he had a half-hour to get to his shift at the bookstore. He might’ve ignored it, but Sirius had gotten out of bed. As it was Vorstag had worked his shift in slightly wrinkled, pizza-smelling clothes, and by the time he got home to shower was glad he hadn’t given in so quickly. He still wasn’t completely sure of Sirius’ feelings towards him, and hadn’t wanted their first time to be a quickie before work. Pulling on his suit jacket, he studied himself critically in the mirror before leaving his room. He knocked on Versaag’s door. “Are you ladies decent?” he teased.

“Maybe not morally, but I have clothes on,” Versaag giggled as their mother opened the door. Vorstag had to smile. His little sister was standing in front of a full-length mirror, filtered sunlight casting a warm glow over her. Her white dress had short sleeves and clung lovingly to her curves from bust to hip before flaring out into a skirt comfortable enough to walk in. The bodice and sleeves were lace-trimmed and embroidered in a pattern of leaves and vines, while the skirt was plain. Mrs. Braun’s wedding pearls hung at her pale throat, and matching earrings gleamed mellowly from her ears. Her long hair was brushed over to one side and pinned to fall over her right shoulder, and a delicate wreath of fake flowers with a short veil attached added the final touch.

“Look,” she said softly, motioning Vorstag over. She showed him a small locket brooch pinned to her left shoulder, easing it open with a pearl-laquered thumbnail to reveal an old picture of their father, duplicated from one of their parents’ wedding photos. “So Dad can be with us, too.”

Vorstag hugged her, careful not to muss her hair or dress. “He’s really proud of you,” he said, smiling. “I know it.”

“Don’t make me cry,” Versaag sniffed, punching his shoulder. “I’ll ruin my makeup. Is Sirius going to meet us here or at the church?”

“He’ll pick me up here, while you guys ride in the limo.” Vorstag moved out of the way as Versaag’s friends, in hot pink, entered the room with food, forcing the bride to sit down and eat a little something before she fainted. Versaag sat and nibbled at toast carefully to not ruin her lipstick, as Mrs. Braun and the other girls fussed over her. Vorstag went back into his room and looked out at the street, seeing the sparkling black limo pulling up to the curb. At the same time, a rumble announced Sirius’ Dodge before it could be seen, making Vorstag grin. “Mom! The limo’s here!”

“Oh God,” Versaag blurted nervously, dropping her toast. One of her friends swatted it away before it could hit Versaag’s dress, as the others helped her up and ran around grabbing purses, phones, cameras, and bouquets. Vorstag slipped his phone in his pocket and followed the group. His mother, in a pink less shocking than the bridesmaids’, locked the door and waved reassuringly to Bob the cat, who looked relieved to have the house to himself as he watched them through the window. Versaag’s friend Janelle was the first to notice Sirius, who was waiting by the Dodge, dressed in a dark grey suit with a tie the exact same color as Vorstag’s, the pocket square Chac had insisted on neatly arranged at his lapel. 

“He’s fucking hot,” Janelle said very audibly, and was promptly whacked by Versaag’s bouquet, prompting a scream from Mrs. Braun as she rushed to be sure the flowers hadn’t been damaged. 

Vorstag blushed, going to Sirius’ side. All the girls were watching, so he kissed Sirius on the mouth. “That’s my brother’s boyfriend, Jan, keep your hands off him,” he heard Versaag scold.

“Morning, babe. Looking good.” Sirius said with a grin, pleased by the kiss. He turned his smile on the women. Janelle looked disappointed, but he ignored that. “Morning, ladies.” He kissed Versaag’s cheek, and Mrs. Braun’s. “You look lovely.” 

“You look wonderful, too,” Mrs. Braun beamed at him. “Let’s get going, everyone!”

The women climbed into the limo, as Sirius and Vorstag retreated to the Dodge. Vorstag whistled, walking around the car, which shone like black glass. “This is amazing,” he said admiringly. “And you did this all yourself?”

“Yeah.” Sirius was proud of his car, which was not 100% yet, but light years away from the rusted hulk it had been when he had gotten it. He had spent the day before at the self-service car wash, carefully washing and waxing it and giving the interior a thorough cleaning. When they opened the doors, the smell of leather drifted out. Vorstag slid into his seat, running a hand over the fake wood of the dashboard, which gleamed in the sun. Sirius slid in as well, pointing slyly at a little niche under the dashboard. “The only thing I put in that isn’t original is that,” he said, putting his phone in the niche and plugging it in. Heavy metal poured from the speakers, Sirius sheepishly turning it down before starting the car. The loud rumble of the engine somehow struck Vorstag as sexy, and he was pleased to be riding in this gorgeous car with an equally gorgeous man. They followed the limo, Versaag and her bridesmaids turning in their seats to make faces out the back window at them, with Vorstag making faces back and Sirius jokingly flipping them off when Mrs. Braun wasn’t looking. 

When the group reached the church, Vorstag and Sirius went inside first. Cerdic and the priest were already there, including a few early guests (like Vorstag’s great-aunt Mabel, who showed up an hour early to everything). Vorstag patted Cerdic’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous, bro. I might pass out when your sister gets here.”

“If you don’t pass out from her sheer beauty, I think she’ll be insulted.”

Guests began arriving, taking their seats. The Brauns were a small family, but Cerdic came from a big Irish clan, who had apparently even sent over representatives from the old country. Though Cerdic wore a regular tux, many of the older men in his family, including his father, wore kilts. Sirius was hoping they all had underwear underneath for form’s sake as he sat on the edge of the reserved bench, his leg bouncing nervously. Vorstag had gone to the back of the church. Sirius glanced around, and saw one of the side doors open and a man sidle in. Instantly Sirius knew something was up. The man was dressed in jeans and a stained tank top, and was scanning the guests suspiciously. Sirius rose and crossed the church, a sinking feeling in his chest. This had to be the ex.

Up close, the guy was overweight and bald, with a walrus mustache and tattoos that Sirius would have been ashamed to have put on anybody. His tank top was stained with what may have been gravy from a Hungry Man dinner, and he smelled like beer. But he looked dangerous, too. Sirius had to get rid of him. “Hey, mate. Can I help you?”

Hongar looked over at the tall, skinny guy and snorted. “Fuck outta my face,” he muttered. “I’m looking for someone and you ain’t him.”

Sirius clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Watch your mouth in a holy place,” he ordered. “I can tell by looking at you you aren’t here for the wedding, so I suggest you get lost.”

Hongar wrenched his shoulder from Sirius’ grasp. “I said, fuck off,” he said in a louder voice. A few people glanced over, annoyed by his tone and his language. He didn’t notice them, as he resumed scanning the church for Vorstag. His own sister’s wedding, the bitch had to be around here somewhere.

“Okay,” Sirius sighed. Annoyed now, and desperate to keep anything from spoiling the day, he grabbed Hongar’s upper arm in an iron grip and forcefully pulled him back out the door. Hongar growled, but Sirius was unfazed. In the parking lot, Sirius pushed him away. “I know why you’re here, so get the fuck out,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t know what kind of shithead you have to be to try and ruin a girl’s wedding day, so why don’t you get lost before I call the cops.”

“Who do you think you are?” Hongar snapped back at him. “This is between me and Vorstag. I have no idea who in the hell you are, but buddy, you’re lucky I don’t break your fucking fingers.” He attempted to push past Sirius but was shoved back. Instantly he saw red. Who the fuck -

“Get lost.” Sirius warned him. But he could tell Hongar wasn’t going to get lost. The man was glaring at him, his upper lip curling.

“You want to take me on?” Hongar challenged him.

“Not especially. I’m wearing my good clothes. This fucking tie cost me $70, and I don’t want to get blood on it.”

“Then get out of my way.”

“Oh, shit.” Sirius sighed, then pulled off his jacket, tossing it onto the hood of a nearby car. He loosened his tie and threw it on top of his coat. “I don’t particularly want to do this, but if you’re gonna be an asshole and trash the wedding I’ve got no choice.” He rolled up his sleeves. 

Hongar laughed at him. “You’ve got another thing coming, pretty boy.” He threw a punch without warning, his meaty fist missing by mere centimeters as Sirius dodged. Hongar had been in more than his share of fights in his life and he wasn’t worried about this one. This skinny kid couldn’t do anything. He rained blows down on his opponent, hoping to knock him out, but Sirius was a good fighter as well. He dodged and blocked, but he was forced into the defensive. As long as Hongar was on the offense, he had the upper hand. Gleefully he punched every bit of Sirius he could reach, panting. He was enjoying this. No one had had the guts to fight him since he left prison.

“Give up yet, pretty boy?” he panted, grinning maliciously. One part of his mind told him that people had emerged from the church and were watching, but he didn’t give a fuck. Right now the only thing he cared about was getting rid of the kid before going back in to find his bitch. He’d drag Vorstag home by the hair if he had to.

Stepping back, he grinned down at Sirius, who was hunched over. He spat at his feet. “Had enough?”

“Yeah.” Sirius straightened up, and to his surprise Hongar realized the kid had been rolling with the punches, deflecting the damage. “My turn.”

Sirius proved to be a deadly fighter. Hongar couldn’t even see his fists, just felt the blows landing on his chest, arms, and gut. He had the wind knocked out of him and as he bent over, wheezing, Sirius gave him one last blow, his tattooed knuckles crashing into that fat, sneering face, breaking Hongar’s nose and knocking out two teeth. Hongar stumbled backward and hit the grille of his own truck, groaning. Blood poured down his jaw and splattered his tank top. Sirius looked down at him coolly. 

“Get the fuck out of here, asshole. If I see you near Vorstag or any of his family I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

Hongar tried to threaten him back, but could only wheeze as he struggled for breath. His mouth was full of blood, too. He spat and swiped at his nose before turning back and climbing into the truck, peeling out with an obnoxious squeal of tires. Sirius ignored him, pulling his coat and tie back on. As he headed toward the church, he realized that several of Vorstag’s relatives had come out to see what was going on, as well as Vorstag himself. He felt ashamed. He had just gotten so angry, wanting to beat the ever-loving shit out of the ex, that he had forgotten where he was. Climbing the steps, he looked sheepishly up at Vorstag. “Vorstag, I’m sor-“

He was cut off as Vorstag grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him fiercely. “Thank you,” Vorstag whispered urgently against his lips. “Thank you.”

Sirius would have kissed back if not for the arrival of Mrs. Braun, who looked frantic. “What’s going on? Aunt Mabel said something about a fight?”

“Sirius was just escorting out a drunk,” Vorstag said quickly. He squeezed Sirius, who nodded. 

“He was in the wrong place and I had to rough him up a bit to get him to leave,” he lied. Mrs. Braun looked concerned, but nodded.

“Okay… we’ll be starting soon, don’t be long.” She hurried away and Vorstag withdrew from Sirius, biting his lip. 

“Thank you,” he said again. He smoothed Sirius’ jacket out, sighing. “I can’t believe he’d come here….” Looking tired, he ran his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “I’ll see you inside.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Sirius said with more confidence than he felt, and hurried to the bathroom to wash his face and clean the blood off his knuckles. He had cut himself, and he managed to score some gauze and ointment from one of the priests, who looked alarmed at the thought of a fight in the parking lot and gave Sirius a stern lecture about brawling in a place of God as he bandaged his knuckles. Sirius apologized several times before heading back to his seat just in time to watch Cerdic and his mother walk down the aisle. He settled back and ignored the few curious glances he got, instead focusing on the procession. Versaag was radiant in her gown, smiling beautifully as she joined Cerdic at the altar.

The ceremony was beautiful, but Sirius was focused on Vorstag, who stood beside Cerdic, looking close to happy tears as he offered the rings. Mrs. Braun was sniffling beside Sirius and he reached out to hold her hand, squeezing gently. His lips still tingled from Vorstag’s fierce, burning kiss, and his heart ached. His mind was made up. Tonight, he was going to get Vorstag alone and confess his feelings. He might be rejected, might be handing over his heart just to see it broken, but he had to get it out there. 

—

The reception was like a fairy tale. Versaag’s decorator had outdone herself, transforming the banquet hall of the Hilton into a shimmering rose paradise. The little centerpieces Versaag had made were cheerful and charming, and many of the guests had expressed their admiration. The food was delicious; a spring salad followed by pasta and then filet mignon or chicken cordon bleu. Sirius was sitting at the family table, tearing into every dish and savoring the wine. As he got more and more tipsy he got louder and more affectionate, giving Vorstag kisses more often. Vorstag was blushing, knowing the kisses and touches were just the product of alcohol. Watching his sister and her new husband made him happy and jealous at the same time. What he wouldn’t have given to be the one getting married….

The dancing began after supper was cleared away. Versaag and Cerdic shared a slow dance first, Mrs. Braun sniffling happily the whole way through. Others got up and joined them, and Sirius pulled Vorstag to his feet. “Come on,” he said, his words slightly slurred. He led Vorstag to the dance floor and pulled him close, then laughed. “I don’t know how to dance,” he confessed, and Vorstag had to smile. He led instead, Sirius imitating his movements. Even though he was a bit clumsy, Vorstag found Sirius to be a perfect dance partner. He rested his head on Sirius’ shoulder, closing his eyes and letting himself relax. Sirius rubbed his back as they revolved slowly on the spot. Neither wanted the dance to end.

As he pressed close to Sirius, Vorstag was torn. He wanted badly to confess his feelings, to let Sirius know their relationship meant so much to him. But he didn’t dare. Trying to make something out of this would be like breaking the spell. If he spoke, Sirius would leave. Tears pricked at his eyes and he tried to ignore them. 

A faster song started and Vorstag jumped when a finger tapped his shoulder. It was Versaag’s friend Janelle, a drink in one hand. “Can I cut in?” she asked, grinning, and against his wishes Vorstag stood aside and let her dance with Sirius. He edged away, standing near the door, fanning himself. His eyes were riveted jealously on the pair, watching Jan shamelessly flirt and grind on Sirius, who was laughing and dancing wildly. They looked good together, Vorstag thought, and the tears were back again. He couldn’t watch anymore. Pretending to need fresh air, he ducked out the door and hurried out of the glow of the hotel lights, wandering through the small but elegant garden behind it. He drew a long sigh and sank down on a bench, looking forlornly at the little fountain in the middle of the garden. It only made sense for Sirius to be attracted to Jan, right? After all, he was only pretending to be Vorstag’s boyfriend. If he wanted someone else, Vorstag had no business holding him back. But still he despaired, sighing again and staring off into space, lost in his thoughts.

The soft noise of shoes on gravel made him look up. Sirius was there, looking flushed. He had removed his jacket and was somehow even more handsome in his vest and tie. “Hey. Can I join you?”

“Sure.” Vorstag moved over and Sirius sat, lighting a cigarette. For a few minutes no one spoke, as Sirius smoked and Vorstag continued to stare into the distance. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius was looking at him, noticing the pained look on his face. He had hoped the quiet garden would be a good place to talk. He had seen Vorstag rush out and at the same time had realized Vorstag probably thought he was flirting with Jan. He stubbed out the fag and reached out to grasp Vorstag by the chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. He got no response, but he could see the hurt he had inflicted. “Oh Jesus, Vorstag… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Vorstag said stiffly. “This is just pretend, isn’t it? No reason you can’t flirt with someone else.”

“That’s not it!” Sirius was suddenly desperate, and he had to make himself understood. “It’s not pretend for me, not anymore! Forget her - fuck, I’m a little drunk - but that’s no excuse! I… I love you, Vorstag!”

Vorstag couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “You… you do?”

“I do.” Sirius bit his lip. “I know it hasn’t been long but… I feel drawn to you. I agreed to this for Lydia’s sake, but after I met you I saw… something in you. And as we got to know each other, I realized I didn’t want to be just a friend, or just a pretend lover. I want you for real. I-if you’re okay with that.” He was fumbling. “Shit - I’ve fucked this all up. I’ll just go back inside -“

“No.” Vorstag held his hands and kept him from rising. “Don’t go.” He touched Sirius’ cheek. “I… I’ve felt the same way, too. I wasn’t sure if you… liked me too, but today… after you beat Hongar up… “ he glanced down at Sirius’ bandaged knuckles. “No one would do that for someone they didn’t love. I overreacted about Jan. After all, you listened… you comforted me when I told you about Hongar. You didn’t shy away or get disgusted with me. You made me feel loved in a way I haven’t before.” He was crying a little now, but smiling, and so was Sirius. “I love you, too.”

Their lips met, shyly at first, but growing bolder. Vorstag allowed himself to relax, putting his arms around Sirius’ neck, pleased that Sirius was kissing him back just as passionately. For a long time they sat on the bench together, not wanting to let go. Finally Vorstag heaved a sigh. 

“They’ll be wondering where we are,” he said, gazing up at the hotel. Laughter and music could be heard, faintly. They stood, and Sirius pulled Vorstag into his arms again.

“Let them wonder,” he said, before kissing Vorstag again. Vorstag melted into his arms, feeling Sirius’ shoulders droop and his body relax as they kissed deeply. It felt so right, so natural. They belonged together.

“Boys!” Mrs. Braun was calling from the door. “Are you out there? Come in for cake!”

Sirius chuckled. “Mom calls,” he said fondly, and they started up the path, holding hands. Vorstag ignored the jealous glance Jan threw their way, and led Sirius to stand at the edge of the dance floor. Versaag and Cerdic beamed at them. As the newlyweds cut the cake, Vorstag leaned against Sirius and felt his arm slip around his waist, holding him tightly. He felt better than he had in quite awhile, overjoyed to have his love returned by the man he adored. As the guests cheered for Versaag and Cerdic, Vorstag closed his eyes and offered up a little prayer of thanks.

—

The night wore on, the music and chatter growing louder as time went by. Vorstag and Sirius danced every dance, each man saving one slow dance for Mrs. Braun, who laughed up at them, affectionately calling them “her boys”. Champagne followed cake and Vorstag was feeling tipsy, his usual reservedness slipping away with each drink, becoming more bold as the reception went on. Sirius didn’t seem to mind, laughing with him and exchanging kisses, even letting Vorstag grind on him. The guests were having just as much fun, and the newlyweds were pink-cheeked from dancing and warmth, the relatives clinking their glasses at every opportunity to see them kiss. Little kids squeezed through the dancing crowd, waving bubble blowers and screaming happily. It was wonderful, and Sirius felt welcomed by Vorstag’s relatives. It was nearly one in the morning before Versaag and Cerdic excused themselves, and the party started to thin out. As it was, it was past two when Vorstag and Sirius staggered into the elevator, yawning. Their room was a welcome sight, the big bed looking deliciously comfy. But at the moment they had other things on their minds.

“Untie this,” Vorstag demanded, fumbling at Sirius’ tie. His boyfriend laughed and struggled, pulling it loose enough to yank over his head. He tossed it unceremoniously on the couch - which no one would be sleeping on tonight - as Vorstag’s jacket was flung beside it. They kissed eagerly, longingly, Vorstag burying his hands in Sirius’ long black hair as he had longed to do. Sirius kissed his neck, pressing their bodies close. His fingers fumbled with buttons as he removed Vorstag’s vest and shirt. 

“Why the fuck - are these so hard to get out of?” he gasped, as Vorstag discarded his own tie and pulled Sirius’ shirt open.

“No idea.” Vorstag was enchanted by Sirius’ hard stomach, his chest dusted with dark hair, and the star tattoos that started near his navel and disappeared under his waistband. Together they removed each other’s clothes, kissing feverishly and backing toward the bed as they did, flinging garments aside. They collapsed onto the mattress in a tangle. Vorstag traced the line of stars as they traveled down Sirius’ hip to his upper thigh, smiling wickedly.

“Who tattooed these on you? Please don’t say your uncle.”

“Oh God, no,” Sirius laughed. “No, I had these done a few years ago by a guy upstate.” He ran his hands over Vorstag’s pale skin, admiring his muscular body. “I’d love to put art on you,” he said softly. “You’re a perfect canvas…” He let himself imagine a sprawling landscape painted across Vorstag’s chest… or perhaps a dragon, mate to his own, on his broad back. He lowered his head to kiss Vorstag’s chest, his long hair trailing over the white skin like silk. Vorstag caught the soft strands in his fingers and raised them to his face, inhaling the smell of Sirius’ shampoo. Their lust, so demanding just a minute ago, had become slow and sweet, both men slowly exploring each other. Vorstag’s hands ran down Sirius’ sides and grasped at his hips, their lips meeting again as Sirius began to slowly roll his hips, their erections rubbing together deliciously. 

“You sure you want me?’ Vorstag managed. 

“Oh, babe…. don’t ask silly questions,” Sirius replied, kissing Vorstag’s throat. “Just let me do this….” His strong hands mapped Vorstag’s skin, brushing his fingers through his thick brown hair. His lips trailed down Vorstag’s neck and across his collarbones. Vorstag moaned softly as their cocks ground together, hooking a leg around Sirius as if afraid he’d pull away. There were no words to say, just the soft gasps and moans of devotion and passion as they made love. Sirius seemed intent on giving Vorstag pleasure, and Vorstag was touched, clinging to his new lover and crying out as he came. Sirius stiffened atop him, Vorstag’s name escaping his lips as he reached orgasm. It was quick, sudden, but neither man felt cheated. They held tight to each other, catching their breaths, hearts beating as one. Vorstag closed his eyes. A single tear ran down his cheek, and it was kissed away.

“I love you,” he whispered, looking up at Sirius, who smiled down at him. 

“I love you, too,” Sirius responded honestly, his usual toughness discarded as he cuddled close. Vorstag held him tight, loving the feel of Sirius’ breath on his neck, their bodies pressed close together. He wanted to cherish this feeling forever, but was growing sleepier by the second. Sirius’ breathing had slowed as well and he began to snore. Vorstag smiled to himself, allowing himself to drift off. After all, there would be plenty of nights like this to enjoy.


End file.
